


Yavanna's Gift

by PunchyPomeloPeach



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Dwobbits, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21741091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunchyPomeloPeach/pseuds/PunchyPomeloPeach
Summary: Bilbo reveals a well-kept Hobbit secret to Thorin, gardening shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 24
Kudos: 581
Collections: Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2019





	Yavanna's Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BreezeBubble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreezeBubble/gifts).

> Happy Holidays!
> 
> I hope this is alright, I'm still fairly new to writing (I'm more of an artist!). I had fun writing it, I hope you have fun reading it! : )
> 
> I wish you a lovely Holiday and New Year!!

Thorin was upset. 

Bilbo knew this the moment his beloved had flown through the door to their shared chambers like a small hurricane. He did not even need to look up from his reading to know Thorin was very close to brooding at his great writing desk.

The two began their courtship almost a year ago, a few short months after the Battle of the Five Armies; now there was talk of a wedding in the mountain, though not everyone was happy about the idea. 

"What's wrong, dear?" Bilbo asked, closing his book. Picking up his mug of tea (it _ was _ tea time after all), he padded over to the desk, leaning against it with his hip. Thorin grumbled unintelligibly to himself moreso than to Bilbo. "Very helpful, Thorin," Bilbo scoffed playfully, reaching out to thread his fingers in his dwarf's hair comfortingly. 

Thorin heaved a deep sigh, and he looked very tired. "A few members in the Council actually voiced their..._ distaste _ of our relationship today," the King began. Bilbo paused in his combing, his brows furrowing in concern.

"What did they say?"

"They wish for me to settle with a dwarrowdam instead." 

"Specifically a dwarrowdam?" Bilbo questioned, his petting resuming, smiling slightly when Thorin unconsciously leaning into the touch. "Why?" 

"Because they want me to produce an heir. Or, at least, that's their sorry excuse," Thorin said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"But, you already have both Fìli and Kìli," Bilbo pointed out.

"I told them that," the dwarf huffed, crossing his arms. "But they insist since you cannot bear me a child, you are not 'suitable' as Consort." 

Bilbo laughs. "Well, they're wrong," he comments, sipping his tea. 

"I know," Thorin sighs. "No matter what they say, I know you will make a wonderful Consort. You love and care so much for the people and the mountain. That is more than I can say about many of the Council members." 

"Oh, uh yes, that too. But I was talking about the other thing you said. About not being able to bear children," the hobbit said casually. 

Thorin blinked. "What?" 

"Did...did I not tell you?" Bilbo looks serious now, lowering his mug to the desk. "Hobbit couples can have children regardless of their sexes." 

"No, you have not," Thorin says. "But how...we…but we have-" 

Flustered, Bilbo waves his hand. "I-it doesn't work that way!" 

Thorin stares, waiting for an explanation.

"Okay," Bilbo stands straight, hands moving about as he speaks. "Aüle gave the dwarrow the gift of craft, yes?" 

"Yes," Thorin confirms. 

"Well, Yavanna gave us hobbits a gift as well. The gift of growing things. You saw how green the Shire was." 

"I did." 

"For those of us who cannot or choose not to have children the traditional way, we can grow our children in the soil, just like a plant," Bilbo makes a motion mimicking a plant bursting from the ground. "And you really cannot tell the difference between a born-hobbit and a root-hobbit." 

"Truly?" Thorin looks at Bilbo with nothing short of awe. "You can do this?" 

Bilbo stammers, "Well...technically yes, I can. I don't have everything I'd need to do it here, so I'd have to send a letter to the Shire. And, there is the issue of...well...it may not work, you being a dwarf." 

"_ Would _ you do this? Do you want to have children?" Thorin asks. He'll respect whatever answer he receives from his hobbit, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't picturing a dwarf babe with bronze curls and soft, chocolate brown eyes. Even if it doesn't work, he wants to try.

Bilbo takes Thorin's large hands in his own, rubbing his thumb across the rough and scarred surface. "I've never really thought about having children," he confesses. "I thought I would end up staying alone for the rest of my days, so I never truly considered it." He meets his dwarf's bright eyes, finding safety in them. "But with you, Thorin Oakenshield, I think I would like to." 

The effect is instant; Bilbo quickly finds himself swept up into the great arms of the King, who looks close to tears.

"I assume this means you feel the same?" Bilbo asks, amused. 

Thorin returns a wet chuckle. "I also did not expect to have the chance either," he admits. "Not in all my life." He sets Bilbo down on the smooth floor again, but still has the hobbit wrapped in his arms. "I never yearned to have children until Dìs had Fìli. After holding him for the first time, I understood." 

Bilbo smiles lovingly, before leaning up and kissing the corner of Thorin's mouth. "I'll go write that letter now then," he grins, moving out of the embrace to find his quill. 

-

Bilbo looks entirely too smug sitting next to Thorin at the Council table, Balin thinks. 

He isn't sure why yet, this is the first meeting Bilbo has appeared in as future Consort of Erebor. He stays silent for almost the entire time, only commenting briefly every now and then. 

"Now, your Majesty, about the problem of producing an heir," a member of the Council pipes up daringly.

Balin can clearly hear Dwalin exhale through his nose in annoyance from his post behind him, and he can't help but agree with the notion. How can they insinuate that Bilbo isn't good enough for Thorin after all he's done for him, the Company, and Erebor itself? They would all still be in Thranduil's clutches, if not those trolls' dinner! Balin isn't quick to anger, but he's just about had enough of this "producing an heir" nonsense. It's rather obvious certain Council members are bothered by the thought of a _ hobbit _ on the throne as Consort.

"Ah!" Bilbo says pleasantly. "No need to worry about that, we have found a solution." 

Balin leans forward now, interested. A few other at the table do as well. He notices Thorin smiling, which settles his nerves about the situation. He trusts Bilbo, but it doesn't hurt to also have Thorin's approval on things.

"As you all know, I am a hobbit," Bilbo begins, gesturing to himself. "And we hobbits are a bit different from dwarrow, in more ways than one. Namely, our feet." Balin hears Dwalin stifle a laugh.

"However!" Bilbo proceeds. "I was recently made aware that many of you believe Thorin should produce an heir of his own." This earns a few, terse nods around the table. 

"I was also made aware that you all probably don't know this, but you should all be glad to know that we hobbits can bear children, regardless of our sex. You get your heir." 

Of all things Balin, and everyone else in the room was expecting, it wasn't that. Immediately, questions and utterances of disbelief fly across the room, all while Bilbo looks like the cat that caught the canary. Thorin's shoulders are shaking with poorly controlled giggling.

Eventually the chaos subsides and every voice in the room cries "How?!" seemingly simultaneously. 

"Ah ah," Bilbo wags his finger. "Well-kept hobbit secret!" Groans of frustration reverberate off the walls of dark green stone. Even Balin can't help but grumble.

-

Dìs liked Bilbo. He was funny, and interesting and he somehow kept her big, stubborn brother in check. He was an amazing cook and could fling devastating insults faster than he could fling his conkers. He could throw back ale like it was water, and not have a headache in the morning, and ate as though Erebor would crash around them any second. 

Dìs only met him 3 months ago upon her return to Erebor, but from the stories she heard from her sons, her brother and the company, she already considered him a good sort.

_ "And then he says, 'get into the barrels, please!' Like it's some sort of pleasure cruise! The bloody elvish barrels!" Bofur guffaws at the dinner table. _

_ "Yes! And then Uncle says," Kìli puffs his chest out and speaks in a low, deep voice, "'Do as he says.' So we're all crammed in the barrels, and then-!" _

_ Fìli cuts in. "Bilbo just," he mimics pulling a lever. "Dumps us all in the river!" _

_ The table explodes in laughter, as Dìs looks over the enormous dishes of food at Bilbo Baggins, Barrel-Rider, Luck-Wearer, He-Who-Walks-Unseen, Burglar to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, and Future Consort of Erebor, who simply shrugs, smiles, and sips his tea. _

Dìs didn't understand hobbits. But at that moment, she decided, she liked Bilbo Baggins.

She knocked on her brother's door, hoping the hobbit in question would be there. She heard a gentle puttering about, then a friendly "Come in!"

She opened the door, entering the small leisure room, where Bilbo was sat in a plush chair by the fire.

"Ah, Dìs! What brings you here?" He looked to be in the middle of eating one of his many, many meals, something he was knitting was strewn on the arm of the chair, most likely to be resumed once the food was gone. 

"Another caravan from Ered Luin arrived today, saying they have something for you from the Shire," she explained. "Thought I should let you know." 

"Oh! Thank you!" He said, jumping up. "I'll go get that right away!" 

Bilbo was out the door so quick, Dìs was sure had she blinked she would have missed him. She looked down at the half eaten meal, left behind.

_ Must be an important delivery, _ she thought.

She'll have to ask about it later.

-

"Thorin!" Bilbo calls, bursting into their chamber, small satchel in one hand, letter in the other.

"Yes?" Thorin responds from his desk, looking over contracts from various guilds within the mountain.

Bilbo hops up and sits on the desk, furry feet dangling. "Look!" he says, presenting the satchel. 

"What's this?" Thorin inquires, untying the drawstring opening. A strong, flowery scent emits from the bag, and from what Thorin can see the bag is filled with dark, forest green leaves. "Tea?" 

"This," Bilbo says, practically vibrating with excitement. "Is Yavanna's gift." 

The bag has Thorin's full attention now. "This is what you needed to have children?" He puts his palm under the swell of the small bag. It's very light, and the leaves rustle slightly inside. "What must be done?" 

"I have to eat these," Bilbo explains, pulling the bag back towards himself. "Once they're gone, we begin the next part." 

"The next part?"

"Yes. I think you'll like the next part," Bilbo says, popping a handful of leaves in his mouth. He slides off the desk. "If you need me, I'll be in our garden." 

-

For the next week, Bilbo incorporates the leaves into every meal, the sweet scent eventually clinging to his clothes, as well as Thorin's. 

"Ye wearin' perfume or something?" Dwalin grunts as he follows Thorin to the Council meeting. 

"What? No?" Thorin responds, confused. 

"Well, ye stink of flowers," the burly dwarf huffs. 

Thorin lolls his head to his shoulder and subtly sniffs at his furs. 

_ Oh. _

"Oh. That," he flounders for a moment. "That's some...tea leaves...Tauriel gave to Bilbo to try. Very strong."

Dwalin says nothing but gives Thorin a strange look. Thankfully, they arrive at the meeting hall's large doors before Thorin can be interrogated further.

-

Thorin arrived back to his chambers late, exhausted from the long meeting. Everyone in the room seemed to want to argue about something this time, on anything from guilds and mines to the future Consort and heirs. As well as that, Dwalin, Balin and Dìs were giving him odd looks the whole time over him smelling nice. 

He needed time with his hobbit. 

"Bilbo?" he called out softly, removing his crown and heavy outer layers. Curling up by the fire with his husband-to-be sounded so lovely right now. Kicking off his boots, he walked further into his rooms.

"Here, love," came Bilbo's answer, from the bedchamber. He was sprawled across the bed, on top of the sheets and furs. 

Thorin came closer, intent on cuddling, and realized Bilbo was wearing one of Thorin's tunics and nothing else, his legs bare, his tuft of copper chest hair sticking out of the low collar. 

"I finished eating all those leaves," he said softly. Something about his voice made Thorin shiver. "It's time for the next part." 

Thorin felt his head get hot. "The next part," he parroted, slowly moving closer. The only lightsource in the room was the warm fire, and it lit up Bilbo's bronze curls like the summer sun.

"I said you would like it. Remember?" Bilbo shifted, the tunic riding up, baring more of his thighs. Thorin's hands itched.

"What do you need?" Thorin asked, already having an idea of what was coming. He was flushed from head to toe, he was sure of it. 

Bilbo smiled, his eyes crinkling in that way that made Thorin's heart melt like molten gold. 

"Make love to me." 

And - tenderly and adoringly - Thorin did as he was asked.

-

Thorin woke up feeling well-rested and happy, the room no longer smelling like flowers, but the activities of the night before. He rolled over, looking to crush Bilbo to his chest and snooze a bit longer, only to find Bilbo wasn't there. 

He stood up and stretched, his back popping pleasantly. Slipping on some trousers, Thorin opened the outside door to the garden he made for Bilbo as his final courting gift. It was quite outside of what he usually crafted, but he would craft _ anything _ if it made Bilbo as happy as the garden did. 

His eyes were greeted to the familiar sight of tomato plants, various flowers, and the apple tree. But no sight was so lovely as his hobbit. 

Bilbo's ears twitched upon hearing Thorin tread on the soil. "Hello, love." 

Thorin smiled. "What are you doing up so early, ghivashel?" 

Bilbo held out his hand. "This." 

Thorin knelt on the dark earth, to look closer at the four seeds in Bilbo's palm. He suddenly realized what they were, and felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

"Are...are these…?" 

Bilbo nodded. "They are. I just need to plant them, and - Yavanna willing - they'll grow into children." 

"_ Our _ children," Thorin closed Bilbo's fingers over the four seeds, and cupped his larger hands around Bilbo's. 

"Ours." Bilbo confirmed, reaching up with his free hand to wipe the tears that began to form in Thorin's eyes. 

"Mahal, Bilbo, four of them! You beautiful creature, you are the greatest gift," Thorin was almost blubbering. 

"I'm not sure if they'll all take to the soil, and survive until their uprooting day," Bilbo warned gently. "Erebor has a very different climate than the Shire. And even in the Shire, not every seed makes it." 

"They'll make it," Thorin says. "They're strong. You made them, they have to be." 

Bilbo felt his heart flutter at Thorin's assurance. 

"Shall we plant them together?" 

"I would be honored," Thorin rumbled, his tears drying. 

Thorin scooped out four deep holes in the rich soil, as Bilbo put a seed in each, asked for Yavanna's blessing, and sprinkled them with water.

And they waited.

-

The weeks leading up to the wedding seemed to fly by after that. Every morning after they woke up, Thorin and Bilbo would go to the garden to water the seeds and see if any of them had sprouted. After hours of planning, and meetings and such, they would go check their seeds again, and wish them goodnight.

Nothing was happening above ground yet, but Bilbo reassured Thorin that since their children were half-dwarrow, they may take longer to take root and grow. But still, the two worried and wondered. 

Soon enough, the day of the wedding was upon them, and they went their separate ways to prepare for the ceremony. 

"So." Dìs said as she sat on the corner of her brother's bed. 

Thorin groaned. "Whatever it is you're about to ask me about, do not bother." 

Dìs ignored him. "You've been...somewhat distant lately." 

"How so."

"As though there is something on your mind," Dìs said. "Is everything alright?" 

"Yes." 

"Mm hmm." 

Thorin said nothing, and stared at his mirror while he braided his hair. 

Dìs sighs, and looks out into the garden. 

"He's got quite the green thumb," she comments. "Is he growing something new under the apple tree there?" 

Thorin stops and whirls around. "What?" He drops his comb and sprints to the door. 

There, in the shade of the apple tree, is three little sprouts. 

-

"You cannot go see Bilbo yet, the ceremony is in one hour Thorin! Really, all this over some plants!" Dìs hollers at her brother. 

"I'm terribly sorry your Majesty, but I must agree with the Princess," Dori has his arms out, physically blocking the door to the room Bilbo is in. "He is still getting dressed!"

Thorin growls, "They are not just 'some plants'!" 

"Well then, what?" Dìs huffs, fists on her hips. 

Thorin rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Do you remember that Council meeting where Bilbo said he could produce an heir?" 

"Sure, but what does that have to do with-" 

"Those plants are our children. Hobbits can grow their children in the ground, like any other plant. Those sprouts mean they have taken root and are growing." 

Both Dìs and Dori gape like a fish out of water. 

"I thought he only said that to get the Council off your back about it until the wedding! Mahal, Dori, let him in there!" Dìs all but shoves Thorin through the door once Dori hastily moves out of the way. 

-

"Thorin?" Bilbo is in the middle of putting on his final outer layer when his Husband-to-be comes into the room. "Were you trying to get a sneaky peek at me before the wedding? For shame," he laughs saucily and winks. "Should have come earlier when I had less clothes on." 

"As much as I would love that, that's not why I'm here," Thorin takes Bilbo's hands in his. 

"Oh?" 

"We have three sprouts." 

Bilbo lets out a shaky laugh of relief. "Oh, thank Yavanna," he leans forward, his forehead resting on Thorin's chest. 

Thorin lifts Bilbo's chin, making him look into his eyes. "Thank _ you _."

Bilbo then finds himself wrapped into the King's warm embrace. Once they separate, Bilbo swats at him lightly, "Now shoo! It's bad luck to see each other like this!" 

Thorin simply laughs, and leaves, feeling much more at ease. 

-

The ceremony goes wonderfully, and without a hitch. They follow both dwarven and hobbitish traditions; Bilbo is given marriage braids, and Thorin has flowers and ribbons woven into his mane. 

Bilbo is crowned Consort of Erebor, with a crown that Thorin made himself, a circlet of mithril mimicking intertwining vines of ivy. It is striking against the earthy copper curls on his head.

The party afterwards goes into all hours of the night, but King and Consort leave quite early on to see some very important sprouts. 

"It's kind of a miracle really that three out of the four took root," Bilbo comments, kneeling over the small plants. "The soil here is different, but I suppose where they are half dwarf, they are hardier than normal." 

"Have you thought of any names?" Thorin asks, sitting cross-legged across from his husband, looking at the small wonders adoringly. 

"Well," Bilbo ponders. "If there are any girls, I would like to name her after my mother, Belladonna." 

Thorin give Bilbo a sad smile. "Unfortunately, we dwarrow do not have girls as often as boys." 

"Ah, but they are half hobbit," Bilbo points out. 

"Very true," Thorin chuckles. 

"What about you?" 

"Hm?" 

"Any names?" 

"Perhaps Frerin, after my brother." 

Bilbo grins. "That leaves one more with no name yet." He snaps his fingers. "Oh! How about Bard?" 

Thorin scowls and Bilbo falls over laughing. 

"I suppose a suitable one will come to us eventually," Bilbo says, recovering from his fit of giggles.

-

The months pass, Bilbo does his duties as Consort beautifully, attending as many of the Council meetings as he can, tending to the concerns of the dwarves of Erebor, and handling trade with the Men of Dale and the Elves of Mirkwood (much to Thorin's relief). 

King and Consort tend to the garden everyday, talking to their sprouts as often as they can. When they simply can't, Dìs or the Company members take turns "sprout-sitting". 

Bilbo and Thorin are checking the construction of a new mineshaft when Dìs practically barrels into them, panting from running from the royal wing. 

"What's the matter? Dìs?" Thorin asks, on the verge of becoming frantic. 

"The flowers on your sprouts! They bloomed!" 

Bilbo grabs Thorin and Dìs by the hands and darts back to the garden as fast as possible. 

The three royals step onto the soil, looking at the three flowers in question. 

"Two white, one yellow," Dìs relays. "Does that mean anything?" 

Bilbo starts to laugh. "They truly are half hobbit!" 

"Why?" Thorin asks, gently touching a white petal. It has a soft, silky quality.

"White flowers mean the child is a girl." 

Thorin's eyes almost bulge out of his skull. 

"Oh, I have _ got _ to tell the Company!" Dìs squeals and runs off. 

"Thorin?" Bilbo steps towards his husband. "Everything al- Oof!" Thorin pulls him into a crushing hug, and begins stroking his hair. 

"You've not only given me three children, but two daughters," he says, muffled in Bilbo's shoulder. "I cannot thank you enough." 

Bilbo chuckles, "Yes, alright you big soft oaf." Thorin releases his husband, but the two still hold each other's hands. "I suppose there will be a celebration tonight, hm?" 

Thorin nods. "No doubt."

-

It's an early mild morning in mid-September when Bilbo wakes to a stirring in his core. Blinking blearily, it doesn't quite hit him at first what this means. 

But suddenly, it does. 

He throws off the covers like they're poisonous snakes and shakes Thorin's shoulder vigorously. 

"Hm…?" Thorin mumbles, dregs of his sleep still clinging to him. 

"Get up, get up! They're uprooting!" Bilbo shouts, and Thorin is awake and rushing to the garden door, while Bilbo grabs the blankets he had been knitting for this day.

They kneel in the soil next to the flowers, which have slight tremors travelling up and down their stems. Suddenly, the white flower closest to Bilbo wilts, and soon the top of a babe's head is seen cresting the soil. 

"Mahal," Thorin breathes in awe. 

Bilbo reaches in the dirt at this point, pulling their daughter out, who promptly cries for the first time. He shushes her, and wraps her in a blanket. 

"Oh," Bilbo says adoringly. "She's beautiful." 

Thorin leans over, and takes in her features. Dark, wavy hair that reminds him of Kìli, and the dark eyes to match. Her ears are rounded but he can see a sprinkling of hair starting to grow on her feet. 

"Frìs," he says suddenly. "Can that be her name?" 

Bilbo smiles at her. "I think that's a lovely name. Was it your mother's?" 

Thorin nods.

The other white flower wilts.

"Oh!" Bilbo hands Frìs to Thorin. "Hold her for a moment, please." 

_ As if he had to ask, _Thorin thinks, his soul full of a new but powerful love.

Thorin watches again, transfixed like last time, as his second child bursts from the ground. She cries, louder than the first, and Bilbo quickly soothes and wraps her up. 

"Oh, yes." Bilbo laughs wetly. "You are certainly Belladonna." 

Thorin looks at his second daughter, her copper hair already so curly, but it stays on her head. Her eyes are a shining hazel, her ears round. 

"She's amazing," Thorin says. He never thought his heart could be so full of love. 

"Do you want to do the next one?" Bilbo asks. 

"Oh...can I?" 

"Of course, they're your children too."

They wait, and finally the yellow flower wilts. Thorin waits until he can see his son's head, and then he starts carefully digging. He pulls out the small babe - smaller than his daughters - and realizes something is wrong. 

"He isn't crying," he says. "Bilbo, why isn't he crying?" 

Bilbo looks stricken now, and puts their daughters down gently on the soil. "I...I am not sure." 

"Is he…?" 

Bilbo looks at Thorin sadly. "Not every seed makes it. It's nothing we did wrong. It just happens." 

"No." Thorin says firmly. "No." He pulls his silent son to his body, against the beat of his heart. 

"Thorin…" Bilbo says gently. His wet eyes betray his calm voice.

"Please," he whispers. "Yavanna… Mahal… please." 

A tiny cry is heard, and Bilbo just about faints.

Thorin looks at his son, takes in his midnight curls, his pointed ears, sky blue eyes and hairy feet, and cries as well. 

Once everyone seems to be alright and safe, Bilbo laughs quietly, "Does he feel like Frerin?"

Thorin smiles. "Not quite. But that is fine. I'm sure a fitting name will come to us soon." 

"Yes," Bilbo says. "I'm sure." 

-

"Frodo Baggins!" Bilbo shouts. "Stop pestering your sisters!" 

The dwobbit kit looks spiteful, but obeys.

"Now that's a sour face." Thorin says, amused. "Looks familiar." 

Bilbo rolls his eyes at his husband's tease, but smirks. "Come on now, let's all get cleaned up for supper," he says, herding the dwobbits towards the bath. 

"Are cousin Fi and cousin Ki coming over for supper?" Belladonna asks. 

Bilbo laughs, "Yes of course! Everyone is, it's your birthdays!" 

-

"I've been thinking," Thorin starts, as he and his lovely hobbit husband of ten years get ready for bed after an eventful day of birthday parties. 

"That's new," Bilbo jokes, earning him a playful swat on his arse. 

"Smart. Anyways," Thorin continues. "I was thinking that maybe someday, when the kits are older, we could visit the Shire." 

"Hmm," Bilbo ponders. "What brought this on?" 

"I know they were born here, and are used to dwarrow and the mountain, but they are half hobbit. They should know that side of themselves as well." 

Bilbo smiles. "I think that's a great idea. But not until they are older. I think little Frodo isn't 20 pounds soaking wet!" 

"He's got enough attitude to keep wargs away!" Thorin jokes. 

Bilbo laughs sleepily and yawns. "I do think it'll be good for them. And I would like to see the Shire again too." 

Thorin places a kiss on his husband's temple. "Goodnight, Bilbo." 

"Goodnight, Thorin." 


End file.
